


Writer, Editor, and Teacher

by BunnyRabbit246



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Devoted Reylo, F/M, Flannel Ben, Leia Just Wants Grandchildren, Low Grade Force Bond, Rey Isn't Having Your Mental Health Treatment Shame, Rey's parents are problematic, Rock Critic Ben, Sassy Reylo, Wanna-Be Writer Rey, book porn, intellectual chemistry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-06-29 06:25:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19824376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunnyRabbit246/pseuds/BunnyRabbit246
Summary: Rey Andor has a stack of writing journals filled with abandoned ideas. All she has ever loved was books. All she wants to be is a WRITER.Rey finds J.J.'s writing group. There she meets a group of talented and supportive aspiring writers. Then she meets Ben Solo who offers to be her EDITOR.Looking over Rey's writing, inspires him to fall back in love with writing. He sees obvious talent but, it's rough around the edges. Rey just needs a TEACHER.





	1. The Beauty of Used Books

**Author's Note:**

> Book Porn, Ginger Snaps, Over-Stuffed Journals, Writer Problems
> 
> 1-4 Chapters - Revised 8/24 - 8/25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rewritten 8/24/19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meet Cute  
> Inspiration + Persistence  
> Anakin ships it

**If you hear a voice within you saying, ‘You are not a painter,’ then by all means paint, boy, and that voice will be silenced. — Vincent van Gogh**

  
Rey C. Enso was walking with a smile enjoying the first sunny day in weeks. She strolled the strip of neighborhood shops, wearing her new indigo jeans topped with a white peasant blouse. Picking up a three pack of coconut macaroons from Bad Robot Bakery, a pair of cornflower blue ballet flats from The Republic, and Ginger Lemon lotion from Kenobi/Jinn, she was on a self-care buying spurge.

Rey loved spending her Sunday's like this: iPhone turned off, buried in her leather messenger bag, freshly baked carbs, the the smell of new shoes and shopping for used books.

  
Now she went: Luke's Rare and Used Books. His shop has been open for nearly twenty years in the same original location. Right outside the doors is always a sidewalk clearance table of overstocked paperbacks and coffee table books. Milk crates are filled with yellowing paperbacks, wrapped in book-tape with that great musty smell.

It reminded her of the way her father would protect her paperbacks when pages started pealing from the spine. He would put them back together with meticulous care. Throwing books away, was considered practically a sin in her parents house. The "great scribe" Cassian Andor couldn't have his eight year old daughter throwing away books. Her father would preach "It is better to repair, keep or maybe give away old books. Stories matter you can't just throw them away.

While her mother taught her how to be a independent woman, her father taught her how to be a book lover.

Rey walked into the bookstore to the jingle of door bells. The sound of Leonard Cohen and the vague smell of pot filled the room. The walls are papered in overlapping posters: George Orwell, Jane Austen, Langston Hughes, Hemingway, Alice Walker, Pablo Neruda, Charlotte Brontë, Stan Lee,and many many others. The bookshelves are floor to ceiling and multicolored Christmas lights hung from the ceiling. Since their opening, the books were shelved in alphabetical order by title. It was never separate by genre or authors. It was set up for maximum exploration.

"How are you doing, Rey?" Luke said sitting behind the register dusting crumbs off his shirt and beard. Eating from a box of Ginger Snaps, he was perched on his stool reading a paperback. He had thick white hair with silver sowed into it, weathered skin, and astute blue eyes.

Walking to the counter, she shook her head at how "adorkable" he looked.

"Good to see you..." putting his book down.

"Good to see you too. What are you reading?" Rey looking at the title. "The Electric Kool Aid Acid Test? Nothing like hippies,hallucinogenics, and beats poets on a lazy Sunday. Are you reliving the good old days?" She gently teases.

"No, experimentation and contempt for authority was more my sister's speed. I was the "good" twin: all A's, Eagle Scout, home by curfew, and I even had a paper route."

"So when did you start smoking pot? " smiling at the smell that always seemed to follow him.

"I have a medical condition."

She asked in obvious disbelief,"Really?"

"Yes, restless life syndrome " His smile betraying his usual grumpy annoyed look.

"Okay, fair enough." with her hands up "I'm going to look around."

"I'll be here." Luke went back to his cookies and paperback.

Enjoying having the shelves all to herself, Rey goes through the titles at her own pace, without having to wait behind a slow browser. Shrugging off her messenger bag on a shelving step, Rey started to run her fingers across the cracked spines.

Jumping from his hiding place in the stacks, a slim black cat with yellow eyes landed just behind Rey. Turning around "Hello gorgeous. How are you today, Anakin?" He rolled over on his back meowing for tummy scratches.

Lifting him in her arms, she scratches his tummy. Anakin purrs contently in her arms. She asks "Anything to recommend for me?" as his paw reached out to touch her cheek.

With the ringing of door bells, Anakin jumped out of her arms. She calls after him "I guess that's a no." as he scurried across the hardwood floor. Smiling, Rey went back to browsing the shelves

Walking though the door in dull green Cargo shorts, worn white wrinkled button-down, with sleeves rolled to the elbows, Ben put his sunglasses on top of his head. With height and breadth, He took up a lot of space in a room even with that casual stride.

Luke greeted his nephew. “Ben, I just got a first-edition hardcover of The Maltese Falcon." Handing over the book to Ben, "What do you think? Cool huh?"

With an incredulous look, "Let me guess, mom called you about dad's birthday." He thumbs though the book, with annoyance. "Mom told you what I should get for Dad."

Dropping the pretense, "She just wanted to help you choose a book."

"By make the choice for me?" Dismissively putting the book back on the counter. "What else do you have."

Luke with a disapproving expression, he took back the book.

"What's with the look? I am capable of picking my own present. What else do you have in the back?"

"Fine, I'll check." Luke grumbled off to the stockroom.

Walking around Ben, Anakin put his front paws on his leg. "Can I help you ?" Ben asked ironically as Anakin was meowing to be lifted.

"Okay I'll put you on the counter, but don't scratch me. Deal?" Anakin stopped meowing, seemed to be waiting for Ben. Landing unceremoniously, He rubbed against Ben's hand. Leaning to ask "Better?" Ben felt a soft paw landing on his cheek.

Anakin moved to lay on his corner, as Luke came back with a stack of books to put on the counter. "This is everything from the back. I have to check on a customer." he took the rejected book with him

Rey was still milling about ready to go home, then Luke came walking up with a book."We just got a first-edition hardcover The Maltese Falcon, I figured you would be want to look at it."

Weeks ago, in passing, she mentioned how her parents were book collectors.

"Wow, my dad would love this for his collection." Smiling at the leather binding and what good condition it was in, "Ok, I'll take it, but you already knew I would"

Rey digging for her wallet. "Excuse me." she said almost walking into "the wall" standing in front of the counter.

Still looking at his choices, Ben mumbled an apology and moved out of the way.

Rey digging into bag looking for her wallet, "Give me a sec. Come on. I just saw it in here."

Looking up, hearing her frustration. There was a litter of water, an iPhone, two paperbacks, a pill case, one clear bag of cookies, box of shoes, a bottle of lotion, and a journal covering the counter.

The beige journal, laying on top, looked like an overstuffed pillow with yellow post-its and pieces of papers randomly sticking out. Four thick green rubber bands held everything together in one piece.

"There is probably four books and a screenplay in that thing." Smiling at his thought, while passing her journal.

While she put everything back into the bag she turned to see her journal in the hands of the smiling over tall man.

Taking it from him with a "Thank you"  
  
"You're welcome. That's quite the journal. You must run though a lot of rubber bands." Ben joking trying to keep her attention. "Are you a Writer?"

Tucking her journal back into her bag "I don't think you could call this writing."

"What you you call it?" Ben leaned against the counter so as not to loom over her.  
  
Interrupting Luke said "Rey this is my nosy nephew Ben. He confuses interviewing with conversation." Handing Rey her purchase, Luke looked at Ben with an incredulous look.

Taking the hint Ben said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Frowning, "Well you did, Thanks" Rey eye's not quite meeting Ben's.

Once again, Ben stepping on a step that isn't there, "I...Look...I didn't" he tried to apologize then the sharp smack to the back of the head stopped his groveling. "Ow, What the hell?"

"Oh My God, Luke I was kidding" looking at his pained face with a ghost of a smile, "I'm sorry.", Looking at him rubbing the back of his head, "Does it hurt really bad?" Rey says trying to hold back a laugh.

"Yes, yes it does." with a dull edge.

Trying to keep a straight face,"I'm really sorry"

"Somehow I don't believe you, but I'll live.

"How can I make it up to you?"

Ben stepped toward the cork-board by the door. Littered with band stickers, notices for singers, open mics, and instruments for sale he's looking for a particular notice. "My friend J.J has a writing group, you should come a drop by."  


Bad Writers Anonymous

Meeting 2nd and 4th Wednesday

@ Rebel Coffee

All Genres and Skill Levels Welcomed

Bring copies of work if wanting feedback

We rock this group in the old school way 

No Screens Welcome

"He runs a productive group, keeps the egos out and the room positive. Maybe being around other writers will inspire you..."

Amused by his persistence "I told you I don't..."

Finishing her sentence with a lopsided smile "..write. Yeah you said that. Just think about it."

Folding the paper in half putting it in her back pocket. "Okay, Okay I'll give it some thought."

When she got home unpacking her bag, she was about to just throw away the flyer in her pocket. She reread it half a dozen times hearing what she always heard.

"Wow, isn't your father Cassian Andor.

Do you write, like your father?

Have you been published, like your father?

Will you write something important, like your father?

Will you be as good as your father?

Omg are you "Stardust?"

She felt her teeth grind, as she slowly balled up the paper into the trash, burying it underneath coffee grounds. Unlike her father, He could write a book with just one simple vision and a fully charged laptop.

"No I don't write  
No I don't write  
No I don't write" she kept repeating out loud in her empty house.

Hours before sunrise, Rey's eyes popped open from a dead sleep. There was an itch in the back of her head, that got her out of bed. Grabbing her journal from her bag, she opened it up. She spread every strap of paper on her dinner table.

Just sitting back, Rey could almost see the story, how the pieces fit together. She could see characters, their flaws, the kisses, the fights, the jokes, and even the hard won happy ending. It was all there on her table waiting to be written.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

  
In the beginning, it was like working a muscle that has atrophied. She started small: transcribing the post-its, pieces of paper from her current and older journals into her laptop. On her refrigerator was a bright yellow post it "1000 words EVERYDAY NO EXCUSES" and a wrinkled coffee stained flier.

Pretty soon every free second was devoted to writing. Her days off were all day jags of either looking up writing tips or just "word doodling" in her journal.

Even when she wasn't writing she was "writing". Having conversations with herself before bed about theme until she fell asleep. Working out story ideas in her head while waiting in lines. She would catch herself acting out imaginary conversations between two potential characters.

When her mind finally worked out the name of her main character, she immediately pulled the car over to write the name down before she forgot. She would even go so far as to disconnect her WiFi and turn off her phone, for long stretches of time while she was writing.

Out of all those weeks of work she came up with her protagonist: Daisy Ridley. Rey felt instant connection with this character is if it was her child. This special creation was she pieced together from her journals and her life.

In her mind, Daisy became a "real person". Rey could tell you if she had a tattoo, if she got along with her parents, if she could tell a joke, where she liked to be kissed, and if she believed in love. Daisy was kind, intelligent, self-centered, talented, terrified of intimacy, and was suffering from bi-polar depression. For Rey it was like living with her new best friend in her mind's eye with the knowledge of every moment of her life.  
  
Pushing though the fear of bad writing, she came up with a rudimentary outline. It had a beginning, a middle, and an ending. She also banged out a few characters that could be in her story. On a random Thursday just as the sun was coming up, Rey finished her the rough draft of her novel. It read like someone bashed a promising story with a crowbar. Not the greatest start but, it was a start.


	2. Motherly Concern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leia just wants Ben to settle down with a nice girl.

**To describe my mother would be to write about a hurricane in its perfect power. Or the climbing, falling colors of a rainbow. —Maya Angelou**

Ben Solo walked through the automatic doors of the airport with his rolling bag and worn leather messenger bag slung over his shoulder. The relief of actually breathing in fresh air feels like he was finally home. The small knot behind his left shoulder blade pinched as he sat waiting for his Uber pick-up. After three hours on a plane, all he wanted was to hide his phone in his nightstand, break out the peanut-butter cups in the freezer, take the hottest shower he can stand, and then fall into the sweet bliss of Joy Division on the turntable. Ben strolls though his emails when a text pings and the tension just ratchets up a notch.

 ** _Mom_**  
**_I'm so glad I raised such a considerate son that takes the time to tell his mother when he is out of town. I mean I would hate to drop by and find no sign of my child after all those ignored phone calls and texts. So if you are reading, if it is not too much trouble, could you call your mother so she knows you're still alive. That is if you still remember you have a mother_**. **_Also I threw all your expired food out. You Are Welcome_**.

Ben rolled his eyes calling his mother

"I'm still alive. If you would check your phone you would know that. Ma, you need to get better at checking your messages"  
  
"Oh good you are alive. I can cancel the memorial service" her voice dipping with sarcasm "Benjamin Anakin Solo you don't get to tell me what I need to do. When you were little I had to teach you to stop tugging on yourself in public. After that, you lost all rights to micro manage me."

Hitting his head with his phone "Ma I told you about this trip three weeks ago."

"Well it was unrealistic to expect me to remember that. You know I forget things. It's your responsibility to reminded me of things like that."

His mother could be the most charming, compassionate, smartest woman in the room, with this personally that made you want to be around her. She could also be a bit dramatic, overwrought, intrusive and caustic. No matter which Leia you encountered: you just ended up agreeing with whatever she said or give into whatever she wanted.

"Okay, Next time I'll call you right before I get on the plane. Satisfied?"

"Satisfied? Ben, I haven't been satisfied since your dearly departed father left this earth. On that subject, have you seeing anyone special? I'm only asking because I worry about you being alone living this nomadic existence. Also I'm the only one at Mah-Jongg that doesn't have grandchildren or a daughter-in-law to complain about."

"First off, ew never bring that up again. Secondly, being alone works for me. Thirdly, I can't review concerts and bands without traveling to where they are. You gotta stoping worrying, I'm fine." Ben always felt he had to defend his life to his mother. He clashed with her over practically everything growing up. It didn't even stop when he went off to college. She found a way to look over his shoulder from the other side of the county. His father would just steer clear of their dust ups. If the fights dragged on too long Han would take cover in his den with television turned up high.

"Ben, I know you better than you know yourself. Eventually you will want to stop living out a suitcase. I remember when you were you we would take you to the park. You would run all over the playground as fast as you could, want to climb every tree and spin around as fast you could until you were dizzy. After a while you would just fall asleep on a random bench and had to be carried to the car. People are not meant just go and go until they collapse. You are not meant to be alone, you have too much of your father in you for that to happen. Ben it's not wrong to need and want someone in be in your life, it doesn't make you weak."  
  
"Look mom, I'm jet legged, hungry and too mentally wiped to have this conversation/lecture. I promise I'll come by tomorrow with pastries. So we can have a peaceful breakfast and you pick apart my life. Won't that be fun" Ben said though a tight smile.

Ben truly loved his mother, but she could just drive him crazy, especially when she started to make sense./p>

"Bakery or Supermarket pastries?" Leia responded with suspicion

"Bakery, obviously. What kind of man do you think you raised."

"I'm not sure sometimes." She responded with rich humor.

Seeing his Uber pull up "Ma, my car is here. I'll call you when I get up tomorrow."

"Don't forget to eat before you go to bed and drink plenty of water you are probably dehydrated from the plane"

"Okay Ma I gotta go."

"Ok, I love you Ben. Goodnight"

"Love you too, Mom" He put away his phone to load his bag in the open trunk. As the car pulled away, think to himself his mom made a good point. He did wish that there was someone waiting at home for him. Not that he would admit that to his mother, let along to anyone else.


	3. Stronger than Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey has a difficult morning 
> 
> Ben cleans 
> 
> Rey and Ben have a moment 
> 
> Updated 8/25

**Do the thing we fear, and death of fear is certain - Ralph Waldo Emerson**

  
Rey's place was a one room two floor walk up. It was one of those multi-floor old homes split up into different rental units. Her neighbors were mostly college students and starving artists. The porch always had someone with a easel, or someone with a guitar scribbling on sheet music, or someone working on their labtop with an extension cord running from their apartment to the outside. With her curtains drawn tight, the daily activity was in a galaxy far, far away.

"Is it my imagination or is the stain was getting wider. I should really call the landlord about that." She thought as she woke up looking at the ceiling

She sat up to check her phone on the night stand. Her mind assured her it was time to get up but, her phone said it was 3am. Rey muffled her frustrated scream with a pillow over her face.

Rey fell back on the bed and closed her eyes. A deep inhale fills her lungs, as she concentrates on the weight of her body and give of the bed. Hearing the blood running through her veins, and the cocooning comfort of her home.

If she could just go back to sleep, she could do some writing and have the energy to go to that writing group tonight.

Four hours later, the three alarms spread about her sparse studio apartment went off.

The one on her phone had a cheap car alarm quality.

The second played NPR at full volume with a high pitch mechanical alarm. It was by the 3 cup coffee maker in the kitchen.

The third alarm was a windup bell alarm clock that sat in the bathroom.

After the note on the door about, as her neighbor had worded it the "alarm situation" she was especially careful about not letting any go off unnecessary if she was able to wake before they were about to go off.

Waking up before the alarms was rare. Sometimes it would take every single of those alarms to pull her out of bed.

If she was having a couple of "bad days" it was so easy to give into the gravitational pull of her bed and stay there.

Looking around the walls of her studio apartment while turning off all the alarms, she considered her mostly empty apartment. The fraying sun-bleached unframed movie posters that where thumbtacked haphazardly though out the apartment just as they had on her childhood walls and dorm walls.

Her home was more function than form. There was just a second-hand dinner table with two chairs. Her meals were generally eaten over the sink. In the opposite side of the living area was her cedar desk that was handmade by her mother. Doorknobs kept her bags and bras off the floor. Her shoes were lined up by the door, with her keys hanging on a hook just above. There wasn't a television or stereo system for entertainment just stacks of books littered all over the apartment, a suitcase record player, and a milk cartons filled with records. With random tapestries throughout, keeping the white walls from feeling too clinical.

The sound of her phone's snooze alarm broke though her thoughts. Blankets fell off her as she slowly paddled across the apartment in her bare feet to the kitchen area to start the coffee machine.  
In the bathroom, Rey braced her hands on counter as she felt the edges of a dark cloud brush by her. Feeling that brush was debilitating, freezing every joint until her mind could right itself.

Looking up into the bathroom mirror as her left hand by body memory reached for her pill box. Rey was staring into her own reflection, until she felt the pill in her hand. “You are safe. You are here. Nothing is going to happen to you. No one is gong to hurt you.” she whispered to herself then took three deep breaths.

Rey standing in her worn two sizes too big old man Pajamas and just gazed at her face. Just waiting until the pill to kick in and the fear to ebbed.

Looking at her face, she could see her mothers stormy eyes. Her father, Cassian would say, "Those eyes could tell the secrets of the cosmos and brave any storm". She never knew quite what to make of that as a child. It just seemed something grand and whimsical that fathers said to their plain daughters to make them feel special.

The clouds slowly parted as the chemicals wrapped protective gauze over her mind. She is just stands in her bathroom, deciding if it was safe for her to move.

After a long shower, she dresses in black jeans and a cotton black sleeveless tee. Sitting on the edge of her unmade bed twisting up her hair into a messy bun with two red lacquer chopsticks, she made a plan to pack up her journal and her laptop and go to the Library. She needs to polish up her work and make copies for the writing group. Grabbing up her bag and phone, Rey just wanted some fresh air, get some writing done, get some coffee, and concentrate on the rest of her day rather than the beginning.

XXXXXXX

  
Ben was unpacking his carry-on bag. Throwing dirty clothes in the hamper and putting all the free lotions, shampoos, conditioners, and mini soaps in the medicine cabinet. Storing away the bag under the bed, then he gave the bathroom the once over. He wasn't there a lot of the time but, lived having everything neat and clean.

The kind-sized bed was perfectly made with a deep blues sheets and a fraying patchwork quilt. On the opposite side of the room was old a small chest of drawers from when he still lived at home. The walls where bare and there wasn’t any personal pictures except for a family picture in a oval brass frame. The small writing desk had a computer, a couple of various gadgets charging, a few yellowing sci-fi paperbacks, and his cameras with various lenses and accessories in a bag underneath.

Photography was a hobby he pick up from his mom. When he was a kid she didn't want him to be zoning out on the computer all day locked inside of his room. She use to hide his modem and only give it back if he went outside for some air. She would send him outside with disposable cameras.

After a while, he got a taste for photography. He owns about three or four different cameras most of them digital but the one he really loves is a old Polaroid instant camera it was the first camera his mom bought him.

Seeing the time, "Shit..." He grabbed his satchel and headed out the door.

XXXXXXX

Rey feels the nerves as she walks toward the door. She had been at the library working on her rough draft, but went back home to change clothes and drop off her laptop. The flyer was specific about no screens.

She dressed with a little more polish then normal, wearing a long red off the shoulder tunic with black legging tucked into brown riding boots. The boots always gave her confidence and were her good luck charm.

Her leather portfolio has a copy of her work that in 10 minutes would be read by strangers. The butterflies filled her stomach. She mentally started to count backward from 90 by 3's.

She looked at her reflection in the door to check her hair. Then saw her reflection, took a deep breath, and just pushed through the door.

XXXXX

The back party room was not much more than an empty room with a table the middle with a few chairs. There were a few people just milling about the room. Rey walked in, not sure what to do. Should she sit, walk up introduce herself to people, or just pretend to be busy with her phone.

Just then a smallish man with full framed acetate glasses walked in, she assumed that was J.J as everyone gathered around he table to sit.

Rey went right up to him,"Hi, I'm Rey, I emailed you about joining the group"

"I'm glad you were able to make it. It's a pretty great group. I try to make it a safe supportive space for creativity. We encourage people the bring their work in process to share to get feedback on. So why don't you have a set and just see how we do things."

"Actually I did bring something to share with the group. If that is alright."

"That's excellent, all ready to just jump right in."

She found her seat, putting her portfolio on the table. Rey was reading over her work. Then she felt someone looking at her. Looking up across the table, she was eye to eye with a smiling Ben.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole story came about while I was looking at those behind the scenes pictures of the table read of The Force Awakens. I looked at them and the story just came to me. 
> 
> Thank you everyone that left comments and are following this story: You are rad. You are magic.


	4. She write good. He read good.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey shares with Ben   
> Rey meets Gwen.  
> Representation Counts  
> Ben Current Mood: Intellectual Erection  
> Rey gets an offer 
> 
> Updated 8/25/19

**Writing is a lonely job. Having someone who believes in you makes a lot of difference.- Stephen King**

J.J. stood at the head of the table, let out a sharp whistle from between his teeth. Everyone turned around with the side conversations slowly dropping.

"Okay Ladies, and Gentleman welcome to another meeting of Bad Writers Anonymous. We have new member with us today, Rey Andor."

He gestured toward her and she gave a small wave to the people that turned to look her way.

"Everyone try to make her feel welcome. Also next week Rebel Coffee will been needing the room during or next scheduled meeting. If any one would or could kindly volunteer there home for the next meeting that would be much appreciated, talk to me after. I'm going to pass around the contact list around so I can text were the next meeting will be. Even if we have to take over the back booths of a Denny's we will have a meeting. Ok moving on, Does any one have any one have any news?"

Ben spoke up "One of the members of our editorial staff is stepping down, they are taking submissions for her replacement. I'll need to write some new essays more thought pieces than simple reviews."

"Ben that's great, I hope you bring in some of your writing samples." J.J. looked around the table, "Anyone else have news?" The table shook off the question."Ok let's get started. So we'll break off In groups for 40 minutes, then we'll come back to wrap up."

Everyone shuffled to sit with their partners. Rey gathered her things to sit in the open seat next to Ben. With warm amusement, Ben stood to pull out her chair. They just sat there a moment blankly looking at each other.   
  
"So... do I talk first or you talk first?" Rey blurted out

"Is this your first writing group?" he asked as he didn't hear her question

"Does a high school writing club count?" She dryly answered

"I guess it could. What did you write about?"

"Not to be rude but, you are doing that questioning thing again. Maybe, could we please just get to work?" Politely asking, passing her rough draft.

With an embarrassed shrug "I'm sorry. Do you have something for me to give you feedback on."  
  
As he is about to take her work, "You know I'm not a real writer, right?"

"Okay" looked at her blankly

"Look this is pretty rough to say the least.."

"Okay" he sees she hasn't let go

"....I know for a fact that there are spelling errors and run-on sentences...." She is still holding on to the rough draft, rambling on

"Okay" Ben looks down at their gentle tug of war "Rey, I can't read your work if you won't let go."

"Sorry" she let go and blushed with embarrassment. "Thanks a lot. Do you have something for me to read?"

He reaching into his leather messenger bag, "Okay this is one of the essays I'm thinking of submitting. I usually cover rock shows and review albums. This article is about how the music industry is stronger in a post-stream era that ever before."

"I think I understood half of what you were talking about." she said taking out her oversized oval tortoise reading glasses.

Shaking off commenting on her ridiculous glasses, "Good, just make notes, if something doesn't make sense. Are you a slow reader?" handing over his article.

Rey feigned offence "God no, but I will probably read it a couple of times before I'm done."

Ben was slowing passing over the pages, as Rey said "Oh yeah also I'm not really sure..."

"Take a breath, I'm not expecting perfection." Ben tried to calm her obvious fear "Don't you have and article to read?"

"Ok, do you mind if I walk and read. I think better if I'm moving around." Her blunt black lacquered fingers were drumming on the table.

"That's fine" then Rey's stomach clenched when he grabbed his red pen. "You probably don't wanna be around for this anyway."

She faked an easy smile as she rose from the table with a pencil and his article.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

What he was reading was not what he was expecting. The prose didn't read like anything else he read before. The main character Daisy a woman struggling with mental health issues. The character wasn't helpless nor was a manic pixie dream girl.

Rey captured the struggle without pity or romanticism. Ben poured over every line, he could feel the main character's constant conflict with herself.

Ben could see the obvious talent in the rather intriguing text. It was the two things he always strived for in his work: Stark and Sharp. She only had twenty pages double spaced, but he was sure she had more story to tell.

He was really just focusing on the words and the ideas. The nuts and bolts of what she had was all over the place. It had issues with passive voice and grammar.

He wasn't that concerned about those things. Those minor things are easily fixed. Ignoring those issues, there was talent and passion. She just needed some guidance. Someone to show her how to make the most out of her gift.

He read it over two or three times. Ben left notes in places that needed to be polished, cut, or expanded. He underlined parts that were impressive and left question marks where the writing drifted and was unclear.

Rey kept looking over at Ben as he was looking over her work. He wouldn't even look up from the pages. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Don't worry if he isn't looking up it means he doesn't hate it." a woman said behind her. She was tall with platinum blond hair with silver bangles up and down her arms. "I'm Gwen, you're Ray right?"

"Yeah... I must seem silly being this anxious about someone reading my draft." still looking at Ben writing all over her pages.

"No, but don't worry Ben is though but fair. He's never written, "This Sucks" on anything of mine. So I wouldn't worry to much"

"Maybe you are an excellent writer with flawless writing."

"I keep telling people that but they keep sending my manuscripts back." She said with a self-facing snicker.

"So you have written a book? What's it about."

"Well, I wrote a serial killer murder mystery with a non-binary FBI agent as the main protagonist."

"Wow, that's original. What made you think of that."

"I'm not sure, I just started writing and it just came to me. You know what I mean?"

"Believe me I totally get it."

As she looked back over, Ben looked up and nodded he was finished. They traded back their work. He skimmed over her notes they pointed out things he already figured he had to clarify for the lay reader.

She expected to be reading a lot of critical notes. It wasn't your typical narrative and she wasn't sure she was getting across what she wanted to.

Rey didn't expect to be smiling at Ben’s notes in the margins. The notes were encouraging, objective, and constructive.

"I guess you didn't hate my story." She was smiling and humbled by the thoughtful feedback .

"No, I really don't hate it. With a little work, I might like this story." Ben teased

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves it's only a rough draft. There is plenty of time for you to change your mind and start hating it."

"If you get the right kind of help, I'm sure I won't change my opinion."

"What's the right kind of help?" she asked as she put her rough draft back into her portfolio.

With his hand extended and a bright smile "Hi I'm Ben Solo, and I'd like to help." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello you gorgeous creatures.  
> Thank you for reading.  
> Sorry about the typos and errors.  
> Sat I'll be addressing all those issues.  
> Dyslexia is a Bitch but she is my bitch and I love her. :)


	5. Not Your Imagination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a chapter 5 here

I’m disappointed in myself. I decided I can do much better than that. 

Stay tune for update ☺️☺️👩🏻💻👩🏻💻☺️☺️


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